The best that we can gather is that today

The best that we can gather is that today is the 23rd day since it happened. We probably should have started this on that first day but we didn't. There are only 31 of us left now.

Like sands through the hour glass, so go the folders of Folding Story, folding random stories. The last 31 folders huddled together in a cave up in Nova Scotia after the bomb had

exploded in Bath. The nuclear bath bomb had been a gift from a secret admirer who still hasn't been unmasked to this day. The are theories, some more farfetched than others

" *cackle* Robin seemed to remember things a little differently. He recalled seeing Batman in the tub using his rubber ducky, but the briefcase contents were strewn all over the

place. In Batman, Robin had found a mentor whose kindness knew no bound. When Robin's body was too tense, Batman became a masseur, rubbing and kneading, with tenderness.

When Robin's belly growled, Batman became a chef, whipping up savory crepes and crème brûlée, with extra brûlée. When Robin's eyelids became heavy, Batman became mom, singing soft

lullabies to him as he slept. When Robin wanted love though, Batman was of no help. Batman was unable to love; he was cold and stoic, never diverging from the path of justice.

Robin had to call the interstellar network and look for pen pals. Postage was free for superheroes. Batman only used a bat phone with 5G internet.

But the whole thing got scrapped when The Flash volunteered to run notes back and forth between pen pals for a nominal fee.